


A Little Serenade

by laconicisms



Category: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Coffee, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:05:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laconicisms/pseuds/laconicisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kyouya will not get enough sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Serenade

* * *

He was sitting in the garden of his father's mansion, sipping tea and calculating costs. A gentle breeze was blowing, carrying the scent of flowers in spring. The sun was shining and somewhere a lark sang Mozart's "Eine kleine Nachtmusik"*. Kyouya frowned; the sounds were distracting him. He turned away from the computer screen and demanded that the lark hold its tongue. Unfortunately, it was a rather obstinate specimen and the more he told it to be quiet the louder and more insistent it became.

Then Kyouya woke up.

For a moment he lay blinking in the dark, listening to his Nokia-lark singing and thinking uncharitable thoughts. A glance at his digital clock told him that either he'd be confronted with an emergency or with an excellent reason to commit homicide. Sighing, Kyouya grabbed his cell phone from the bedside table. The display gave him the caller ID, though he didn't need it. This particular nuisance had his own ringtone.

"Yes?"

"Kyouya?"

No, the Emperor. Of course it was him.

"Yes?" he bit out.

There was a pause at the other end, then "I can't sleep."

"Ah," Kyouya said and hung up.

He hadn't even put the phone back on the beside table before Mozart's masterpiece resounded through his bedroom once more. Sleep deprivation – or possibly a hither-to unknown masochistic streak – had his finger press the Answer key a second time this night.

"Kyouya! We got disconnected!"

"Really."

"_Yes!_" Kyouya jerked the phone away from his ear. That shout must have woken half of Japan.

"Tamaki," Kyouya said, "go to sleep."

"But – I can't!"

Kyouya groaned.

"Try."

He hung up.

When the phone rang again five minutes later, Kyouya decided he must be a masochist. Sleep deprivation couldn't have made him stupid enough to forget to turn the damn thing off.

"Kyouya!"

"Tamaki. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Yes!" This time Kyouya succeeded in pulling the phone away before his eardrum burst. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Ta–"

"Is your watch broken, Kyouya?"

"What?"

"Is your watch broken?"

"No," he said. Then curiosity got the better of him. "Why?"

"Because you asked what time it is!"

For a second or two, Kyouya thought about giving an explanation, but after careful consideration it seemed like too much effort.

"Never mind."

"Oh.

Kyouya?"

"Mm?"

"It's 3.46 a.m."

If he sat up and moved backwards a little, Kyouya could beat the back of his head against the wall. It might even cause him to lose consciousness, which seemed a blissful alternative to – _this_.

Of course, it might also wake his brother. Kyouya gave up.

"Why are you awake?" If he was going to lose precious sleep, he at least wanted to know the reason for it; and maybe he could find a solution.

"Because I can't sleep!"

_What_ had he _ever_ done to deserve this? Surely none of his past misdemeanours could have incurred that much bad karma. Right. Small steps. Kyouya took a fortifying breath.

"And why can't you sleep?"

"Because of the coffee!"

Kyouya pursed his lips. They were making progress.

"How much of it did you have?"

The silence that question produced was heavenly and Kyouya relished the decreasing ringing in his right ear. Unfortunately, the very same silence was also ominous.

"Um. Ten or twelve?"

Oh. My. God.

"_You drank 12 cups of coffee?_" Kyouya screeched and flinched because he had just woken the other half of Japan.

"Um, yes?" Tamaki answered.

'And you're still alive?' Kyouya wanted to ask but didn't. He wondered if it was possible to die from caffeine poisoning. He'd have to look it up.

"Dare I ask why?"

"Because it's Sunday," came the prompt reply. This seemed to make perfect sense to Tamaki. It didn't to Kyouya, of course. He's high, Kyouya thought. Or deranged.

He mulled this over.

Probably both.

"Uh, Kyouya?"

"Yes?"

"Hold on a moment! Be right back!"

"Okay."

"Don't hang up!"

"I won't." Clearly he was just as insane as Tamaki. Or a masochist.

Probably both.

Giving up on the idea of sleep for tonight, Kyouya turned on the light and grabbed his glasses. Might as well get some work done while Tamaki babbled at him. He turned on his laptop and waited for it to boot, phone tugged between his ear and shoulder. There was some rustling and thumping and Kyouya let his phone drop into his lap.

"Kyouya!"

The voice was loud and clear.

"I'm still here," he answered, holding the phone to his left ear this time.

"_Good!_"

There went his second eardrum.

"Where were you?" Kyouya asked while typing in his password.

"Bathroom!"

Coffee. Bladder. Bathroom. This made sense, which was good. Tamaki had not yet succeeded in changing the laws of nature to fit his insanity. There was still the matter of the weekday causing him to OD on caffeine, however.

"Why have you drunk coffee on a Sunday?" Kyouya was going to get to the bottom of this. If Tamaki pulled a stunt like this every Sunday from now on … it didn't bear thinking about.

"Haruhi!"

Ah. He thought this over.

It still didn't make sense.

"You drank twelve cups of coffee on a Sunday because of Haruhi?"

"_Yes!_"

The greater part of China must have fallen out of their beds by now.

"Why?"

"I miss her," Tamaki wailed. It was heartbreaking and headache inducing.

"So you drank coffee."

"Yes! Commoner Coffee!"

A suspicion began to form in his mind …

"It reminds me of her!"

… and was immediately confirmed.

"Tamaki, you can't–"

He paused. There was no way he could bring his point across and make it stick when Tamaki was like this.

"Can't what, Kyouya? _What?_"

"Nothing." He'd explain tomorrow, or possibly the day after when Tamaki was down from his high and more receptive to sensible arguments.

"Oh. Kyouya?"

"Yes?"

"I still can't sleep."

Kyouya sighed and opened the file named "Haruhi". He had all morning to find a way to add this to her debt.

**Author's Note:**

> *The _**Serenade for strings in G major**_, better known as _**Eine kleine Nachtmusik**_ ("A Little Night Music" or less literally, "A Little Serenade").


End file.
